


wear that dress you like, skin tight

by thecopperkid, ToAStranger



Series: you're disgusting (baby) [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breathplay, Daddy Kink, Feminization, Kickboxer!Billy, M/M, Overstimulation, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 13:43:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17366948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecopperkid/pseuds/thecopperkid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: Billy catches Steve's ankle. Digs his thumb in slow circles, there, breath heavy.“Lemme earn it,” Billy says. “Tell me how to make it up to you, sweetheart.”Steve's mouth purses up again.He stares at Billy, lets him hold his right foot hostage for a moment, and then pulls away. His shoulders roll a little as he straightens up.“Get on your knees. Beg for it.”*Billy's in big, big trouble.





	wear that dress you like, skin tight

**Author's Note:**

> inspo: margot robbie holding a groveling leo dicaprio back with her heel on his face

The guys invite Billy to the bar around the corner after the fight, offer to pay for his drinks, and Billy’s never said no to free beer before, so he goes.

He’s still riding that high, that invigorating feeling that fighting gives him — more specifically, that _winning_ allows him — and a few stouts later, swimming in endorphins and neon lights and the raucous drone of the bar, it’s easy to lose track of time.

Billy’s outside smoking a cig when he realizes how the night got away from him, and he’s in the back of an Uber in an instant. He’s inspecting the cut on his lip in the rear view mirror, while mostly contemplating Steve’s thighs. How much he’d like to sink his teeth into them.

Billy knows he looks guilty as fuck. Bloody, still sweaty, and reeking like cigarettes.

He knows, faintly, he’s gonna be in _trouble._

Trouble seems to follow Billy. They’ve got a long, complicated relationship.

He’s outside on the sidewalk and looks up to their apartment window. Light’s still on, so he knows Steve’s there, waiting. Billy’s thrumming with adrenaline as he pushes inside and makes his way up the stairs. Replaying his performance in his head. The fucking _glory_ of it.

The thing about Billy is, he’s not the biggest guy, and he knows that. But he’s _fast,_ and he’s good at deception, at hustling. Makes his opponents _think_ they’ve already won, when he’s just getting started.

And he can’t fucking _wait_ to tell Steve all about it. To recount how good it felt, and for Steve to kiss him and sit in his lap and stroke his hair and tell him how _amazing_ he is. And then, he wants to lie Steve back in their bed and push inside him and make him groan his name until he’s begging Billy to _stop._

But when he keys into their door, his heart stops.

Steve’s there, yeah, like he knew he’d be.

He wasn't expecting, however, the _sight_ of him, though. And it stops him dead in his tracks.

Steve's sitting at the bar between their kitchen and living room. There's an empty plate in front of him and another covered in tin foil next to it. Billy can smell the lingering aroma of dinner.

A dinner Steve made for him and that Billy _missed_.

Worse, Steve's mouth is red— painted perfect, just the way Billy likes— and his lips are pursed in blatant disapproval. He sips his wine as Billy _stares_.

But what nearly brings him to his knees, what really gets his heart rabbiting in his chest, is the dress.

It's a black, slinky little thing. One of the thin straps has slid down Steve's shoulder. It looks soft to the touch, shiny like silk, and Billy helplessly follows the way it hugs Steve's figure down to his thighs— to the hint of a garter he sees, to the long legs, crossed and framed in nylon stockings.

To the _heels_ . Black and shiny with _dangerous_ red soles.

“You're late,” Steve tells him, brow up, eyeing him up and down like he's something _dirty_.

And he _feels_ sort of dirty.

“What is this?” he asks, mouth suddenly uncomfortably dry.

“It _was_ eggplant parmesan,” Steve says, setting his glass down and reaching for the bottle. He pours himself more of the cab, slugging it ungracefully into the glass so it splashes up on the sides. “And it was good.”

That makes Billy feel pretty fucking shitty, but he edges further into the room. Stares weakly at how _pretty_ he looks.

“I’m not talking about that,” he says, and he walks up behind Steve, trails a fingernail down Steve’s spine, catching over the black silk. “Was talking about _this._ Is this all for me?”

Steve spins on the counter seat and knocks Billy’s hand away. Glares up at his swollen, split lip.

“Are you _drunk?”_ Steve hisses.

“Are you?”

Steve’s quiet, because.

Yes. At least tipsy.

Billy can tell. From the way his strap’s down, and his lipstick’s smudged, and his eyes look a little glazed.

“Can you blame me?” Steve asks, darkly. He spreads his legs and puts both hands on the edge of the stool, holds onto it while he speaks. Billy wishes he could _see._ “Got sick of waiting for you to show.”

“Baby,” Billy says, and he tries to reach for him again, but Steve leans back, away from his touch. “I’m so fucking sorry. I am. I just. I _won,_ tonight, baby, and I wished you were _there,_ wished you could _see —”_

He’s beaming, reliving that high, but Steve’s not sharing the enthusiasm, he’s fucking _rolling his eyes._

And he _knows_ how much Steve hates Billy’s fighting.

Steve used to be there for it. Billy used to be able to look out into the crowd and see pretty brown eyes _watching_ him.

But it got too much for Steve. Makes him _worry_ too much, to witness Billy getting hurt like that.

“Just tell me if I have to _monitor_ you all night for a concussion,” Steve huffs, leaning back, arms crossed, and he crosses his legs, too. “ _Again_.”

But Billy's mesmerized by the little bow at the top of the stockings as Steve's skirt rides up his thigh. By the contrast of black lace and smooth, pale skin.

His throat works. Mouth _dry_.  He wants to sink his teeth into the place where stocking meets skin and listen to Steve keen.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbles, fingertips trailing over Steve's knee. “I'm fine, baby, I _promise._ Just lemme—”

Steve smacks his hand away. He laughs, sharp and incredulous.

“You don't get to touch me, right now.” Steve says, leaning back against the counter, propped on his elbows, and Billy wants to _take him_ on that countertop.  

“Baby, _please_ —”

“ _No_ ,” Steve says, and there's a heel digging into his thigh, dangerously close to Billy's crotch. “No, I'm _pissed_ . You haven't earned the _right_.”

Billy catches Steve's ankle. Digs his thumb in slow circles, there, breath heavy.

“Lemme earn it,” Billy says. “Tell me how to make it up to you, sweetheart.”

Steve's mouth purses up again.

He stares at Billy, lets him hold his right foot hostage for a moment, and then pulls away. His shoulders roll a little as he straightens up.

“Get on your knees. Beg for it.”

“Okay, baby, I will,” Billy says, and he’s kind of laughing in disbelief. This isn’t _like_ Steve. _“Please,_ baby, please let me see that _pretty_ little —“

“No, I’m serious,” Steve says. There’s the _faintest_ hint of a smile quirking his lips. “You’re gonna get on your knees for me.”

Two things: First, Billy can feel his lips parted a little bit, because he’s a little surprised. Knew he’d be in _trouble,_ but not like this. Probably looks like an idiot with his jaw dangling.

And the second thing — he’s suddenly _painfully_ hard inside his briefs. Cock trapped, practically throbbing, pinned to his thigh.

So Billy does as he’s told.

He kneels on the hardwood floor and watches Steve’s eyes as he goes. The way they _light up_ from seeing Billy obedient.

Steve sips from his wine. Sets the glass down. Kicks his leg a little, _waiting._

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Billy murmurs. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want. To make it up to you. Just. Let me _see_ something.”

Steve extends his leg. Hooks the toe of his shoe under Billy’s jaw, tilts his chin up.

Billy’s trying _so_ hard not to touch. It takes everything in him.

But he can feel the way Steve’s inspecting him under the warm kitchen lighting. Can feel the disapproval radiating off of him, as he looks over Billy’s superficial wounds.

“You know how much I hate it,” Steve says, and Billy doesn’t have to ask what _it_ is. “How upset it makes me.”

“I know.”

“I waited up for you,” he goes on, retracting his leg again as he speaks. He spreads his thighs, leans back on one elbow on the counter while he trails his other hand down between his legs, under the dress. “You _know_ that guy still texts me, right? The hot one, from Starbucks. Texts me all the time. Maybe I should have answered, tonight. I thought about it.”

He’s fucking _rubbing_ himself, in front of Billy. Making him _watch._ Making him salivate.

And that’s driving Billy crazy as it is, but what’s really fucking him up is what Steve’s saying. He feels a rush of jealousy, unadulterated and fiery in the pit of his stomach. He’s _easy,_ he knows, to let Steve toy with him like this. He just hates feeling like he’s second best. His obsession with winning, it doesn’t stop in the ring.

Billy leans forward on his hands. Splays them out on the flooring and leans to better see what Steve’s doing. The way he’s lightly rutting against his own palm.

Steve's skirt rides up a bit around his hips as he spreads his thighs a little more. Billy sees it, then. The pretty, black lace. The bows. Steve's cock hard and trapped beneath satin.

“Bet he would've treated me real nice,” Steve says, like he's musing the possibility of it. “Wonder if his cock is bigger than yours.”

Billy's jaw _aches_ he's got in clenched so tight. “ _Steve_ , c'mon, _please_ —”

He chokes on the word as Steve's hand dips below his panties. As he pets over himself, head tipping back, the column of his throat bare and vulnerable as he gasps.

“Bet he would've made me feel so good. So _full_.”

Billy groans, reaching out, burning with a painful, terrible desire. With an agonizing need to get his hands on Steve and get him thinking only about _him_.

He barely gets his fingers skimming across Steve's thighs when Steve stops him, the flat of his toe pressing to Billy's forehead and pushing him _back_ as Steve clicks his tongue.

“You're not done begging, yet.” Steve says, and Billy's throat works around a whine as Steve laughs. “C’mon, _baby_ . Beg nice and _pretty_ for me.”

He’s frozen like that. In awe, with Steve’s pointed heel barely an inch from his chin.

“Please, baby,” Billy breathes. “Baby. I’m gonna lose my shit. You can’t just _do_ that to me. Get dressed all pretty for me, and not let me _touch —_ that’s mean.”

“For you? Who said I did this for you?”

Billy grunts as a response.

So Steve keeps going. Keeps talking, keeps stroking. “Maybe I should just cum like this — just jerk myself off. Feels _so_ fucking good.”

“No,” Billy hears himself say. Bordering on _groveling._

Steve’s still got his foot holding Billy back. He leans and angles his hips up a bit, picks up the pace with his wrist.

“Maybe I should make you watch me cum. Make you lick it up when I’m finished.”

Billy feels his cock pulse helplessly. He can picture Steve making a mess of his panties, not even taking them off before blowing all over himself. Can picture putting his face between Steve’s pretty thighs and lapping it up, hot and stinging and salty on his tongue.

He palms himself over his pants, wanting release more than anything. It’s discreet, but Steve’s attentive — glares down at Billy’s guilty hand as he rubs tiny circles around the head of his cock.

“You’re not being very _good,_ are you, baby,” Steve says, voice like ice. It’s, annoyingly, the _exact_ same shit Billy uses on Steve all the time.

It’s, like. _Payback._

Billy’s not sure how he feels about being on the receiving end of it.

“I’ll be good,” Billy says, and he drops his hand to his side. “I promise. Just. Please, baby.”

“I don’t think I know what you want,” says Steve. “You gotta use your words, Billy. You have to ask me for it.”

Billy _miserably_ mumbles something about ‘pussy,’ and Steve’s laughing a little breathlessly as he teases himself.

He's _breathtaking_ . Billy wants to _worship_ him. Wants to kiss up his ankle, his calf, the inside of his thigh. Wants to turn him over and pull his skirt up, see his ass in lace. Wants to eat Steve out for _hours_.

Steve's shoe slides down. Nudges at Billy's cheek with the toe. Gently kicks at his jaw, makes him tip his head up.

He _moans_ , all breathy and sweet, in a way that makes Billy's cock throb. Arches and rocks— a _show_ , Billy realizes, he's putting on a _show_ , to _torture_ him— as he strokes over himself.

“Tell me what you _want_ , Billy.”

Billy swallows, reaches up, clutches at Steve's ankle as he rests his heel on Billy's shoulder. “Want _you_ , baby. Wanna touch you. Wanna watch you cum, _please_ , baby—”

“ _How_ would you touch me?”

“Wanna— _god_ , sweetheart, wanna get my mouth on you. Wanna eat you out. Wanna fuck that sweet pussy ‘til you're screaming.”

Steve laughs again, breathless, eyes dark, hips twitching like he's _close_.

“You think you _deserve_ that?” he asks, breath catching. “Think you _get_ to fuck me after tonight? Bet it wouldn't even be _satisfying_ . Bet you're not _big enough_ to get me off, to fill me up.”

Billy turns, dips his head and licks at Steve’s ankle bone. Slow, because he’s not sure what he can get away with.

But Steve’s _panting,_ now, and his chest has flushed pink and blotchy as it rises and falls, a stark contrast between his skin and the shining black of the dress. He looks a little _busy_ to care if Billy’s desperately, eagerly salving over his skin.

“I’d fill you up _so_ good, princess,” Billy whispers. “Stuff that pretty, pink pussy. Lick you out, first, if you want. Lick that pussy _so_ good.”

Usually, Billy would be entranced by the effect he’s got on Steve. Would see it as a conquest, the way his words have Steve fucking up into his own fist and chewing on his lip.

But this time, it’s more like looking in the windows on a party he wasn’t _invited_ to.

“Keep talking,” Steve hisses. His eyelids are slipping half-shut. His heel digs into Billy’s shoulder. “Know how much I like it when you talk.”

And it’s like Billy _forgets_ how to talk, at all.

“Wanna lick that tight pussy ‘til you _cum,”_ Billy babbles, and he laps at Steve’s ankle again for good measure. Steve bucks. Practically _convulses._ “Then, when you’re ready for me, wanna bend you over the counter. Slip inside that pussy. Fuck you while you're all spent. Wanna make you _cry_ , baby.”

It still feels like Billy shouldn’t be watching this. Shouldn’t get the _privilege_ of looking on. But he _is,_ all greedy, from the floor, while Steve’s breath hitches for the final time as he starts to leak into his panties, rubbing himself through it while he _moans_ Billy’s name like Billy’s not public enemy number one.

God.

He’s so much.

But it’s so _sexy_ watching Steve get himself there. Almost better than Billy doing it himself, because there’s something so hot about the fact that Steve knows _just_ what he wants.

Billy watches Steve’s cum spreading, seeping through the black lace of his panties, down his thighs as he squirms on the stool.

When Steve’s finished, he opens his eyes, and meets Billy’s. Carefully slips his hand out from the lacy band of his panties, and, chest still slightly heaving, extends his fingers out in front of him. They’re shiny-wet with his cum.

He looks expectantly at Billy.

Billy groans and leans forward. Grips his wrist in his hand and licks at his fingers. Cleans them off. Savors the tang, the burn of Steve on his tongue.

Steve watches, his eyes still dark, his breath still short. His dress has slid down enough that Billy can see a hint of one of Steve's nipples, pink and begging for attention.

“You gonna clean me up, baby?”

Billy nods, a little helpless, shuffling forward on his knees. “Please.”

And Steve spreads his legs for him. Nods his head, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Do it, then.”

It’s almost a little _much,_ after so long of not being able to touch, for Steve to give him the go-ahead like this.

He’s sort of still waiting for Steve to tut at him. To push his heel against Billy’s chest and push him back. _Laughing_ while he does it.

But when Billy edges in and presses his lips to Steve’s knee, along the stockings, up those thighs he’s been _thinking_ about since he left their apartment, Steve doesn’t shoo him away. He whines a little, instead. Tangles his fingers in Billy’s hair and coaxes him along.

Billy reaches Steve’s panties and laps at the wet lace. Steve’s leaning back on one elbow, still guiding Billy with the other hand, watching intently.

Billy _sucks_ at it, licking Steve’s cum into his mouth from that spot where his groin meets his thigh, and Steve’s hips buck. Then he pulls his hair so hard it _hurts._

“Slower,” Steve grits. “So fucking greedy. You like licking up my cum that much?”

He groans into Steve’s thigh in response, fully fucking wrecked. Steve laughs a little, fingers rubbing over his scalp and then pulling again, just as hard.

“Do it _right_ , baby.” Steve says. “Or should I get someone else to do it, instead?”

Billy _jerks_. He sinks his teeth in at that soft spot, high on the inside of Steve's thigh. Hooks his hands behind Steve's knees to keep him spread open. To keep him from pushing him away.

Steve hisses, squirming, but then he's _laughing_ again.

“What, you think _you_ are my only option?” Steve asks, tugging at his hair, stuttering a moment when Billy sucks at his softened cock through his panties. “I could get anyone I _want_. Could've had someone bending me over and filling me up, just the way I like, when you walked through the door—”

Billy’s never been called _patient,_ not once.

So it probably shouldn’t surprise Steve when he digs his fingers into the band of the panties, tugs at them until Steve doesn’t really have a choice but to lift his pretty hips up, let Billy pull them off to his thighs, then further until Steve’s kicking out of them. Gets sort of caught on his heels, has to let Billy untangle them for him.

Billy flings the panties aside and says, “Hands on the counter, princess.”

But Billy’s still on the floor in front of him, so Steve’s kind of scoffing about it, maybe trying to earn back the power he’d lost, like, “You think you’ve _earned_ it, baby? Think you’ve—”

“Turn around,” Billy says, curt, and he rises to his feet. Grabs Steve’s thigh, and digs his nails in hard enough to leave little half-moon shapes on the skin in his wake.

Steve’s gone breathless again. He’s just staring at Billy, eyes blown.

“Make me,” Steve breathes.

Billy moves _fast_. Gets a hand on Steve's throat, squeezes, pulls Steve to his feet. Teetering on his heels, lips parted, pupils blown out.

“Turn around,” Billy says, again. “And get your hands on the counter.”

Billy sort of _revels_ in the way Steve stumbles over himself to get in position like Billy likes.

Hands splayed on the counter in front of him, hips swaying a little anxiously as he looks over his shoulder at Billy. Wets his lips, breath faltering, and Billy _delights_ in the ripple of tension when he gets his hands on Steve's hips.

He digs his fingers in, hard, until Steve's nose scrunches up. Shuffles forward, kicking at Steve's foot, and gets him to spread his legs more. Presses in flush to his ass, shoving Steve's skirt up, and grinds the hard length of himself there— so Steve can feel what he's done.

“Such a _brat_ ,” Billy says, getting his hands on the pert curve of Steve's ass and spreads him, thumb dragging over his rim; feels a slickness there that tells Billy he _prepped_ for him, that he got himself _ready_ for taking dick, and it burns him up. “Such a fuckin’ _slut_.”

He squeezes at Steve's ass and then brings his hand down hard against his right cheek. Grins as Steve gasps and rocks forward on his toes.

“ _Billy—”_

Billy bares his teeth, reaches forward, and fists a hand in Steve's hair. Pulls him until his back is at a beautiful forced arch.

“You want to get fucked, baby? You want _daddy's dick_ in that tight little cunt?”

Steve _moans_ , jerks, and purses his lips. “ _Fuck_ you, _Billy.”_

“Already _wet_ for me, princess?” Billy’s drawling, and he keeps Steve’s back arched pretty while he presses a finger to his hole. Feels his cock give a kick at the wet tightness that’s swallowing his index finger inside. “Goddamn slut. Don’t tell me you fucked that guy while I was out. That you slept around on me.”

He says it _just_ to feel Steve clench around his finger. _Just_ to get him whining and fussing.

“I _didn’t,”_ he insists, fingers blanching white on the counter as he scrambles to get a grip on the smooth surface. “I’d never _—_ baby. Please. It’s just you. Just. I got _ready_ for you, okay?”

But Billy doesn’t like his tone. That little sassiness there.

So, “I don’t know,” Billy says. He slides in a second finger without warning, like a punishment, and Steve’s jolting in front of him. “I _wanna_ believe you. But you’re already _stretched out._ Think you’re lying to me.”

Steve’s resisting against him, struggling against Billy’s tight grip on his hair.

“‘M not,” he seethes. “Would _never_ lie to you, _daddy_.”

But he’s _still_ got that attitude, that _snark,_ and Billy doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

He curls his fingers and fucks Steve with them. Feels him twitch and spasm as he presses _deep_. Savors the way he gasps and rocks with it.

“Such a needy bitch,” Billy says, grinning as Steve bucks and twists in his hold. “Bet you _are_ lying. Bet you took his dick and now you want _more_.”

Steve bares his teeth at him, slaps at the counter as Billy rubs at that bundle of nerves inside of him, relentless and harsh. He grunts as Billy relents, trembling and panting.

“ _Yeah,”_ he says, between his teeth, so tight around his fingers that Billy _knows_ he's lying. “I let him fuck me _hard_ , daddy. Let him _cum_ in me, too.”

Billy's not proud of how quick he is to snap. Never has been.

But Steve's _damn good_ at pushing his buttons.

He pulls his fingers out mercilessly, sort of gets a rush off the way Steve hisses and twitches in the absence. Then he’s bending Steve over the counter so his cheek’s almost flush with the surface, pushing him into it _hard,_ like he’s saying _‘stay.’_

Billy’s fumbling with his belt buckle, metal clanking as he wrenches it open. Unzips his pants, barely even shoves them halfway down his thighs before he’s spitting into his palm, loud and disgusting so it gets Steve _looking_ over his shoulder from where he’s waiting on the counter. He slicks his cock up with it, builds up a rhythm that has him already bucking into his own hand after going so fucking long being teased.

Billy lines himself up at Steve’s entrance and _pushes_ inside and it’s so much fucking better than he’d been picturing all night. He’s so tight and wet and hot and Billy’s really fighting himself not to _say_ that.

But Steve’s been mean to him the whole time he’s been home, and it’s getting old really fucking fast.

Steve’s moaning as Billy thrusts all the way inside, fucked-out and high-pitched like he’s been waiting for Billy to give this to him.

Billy pushes himself up against Steve’s back, getting as close as possible while he’s hissing like, “Is this how he did it, baby? This how he fucked you? Or did you ride him, like a slut?”

“Just like this, daddy,” Steve mumbles. “Took me from behind. While he told he how _good_ I was.”

Billy can’t help it, he finds himself pulling Steve back up by his hair. Keeps fucking into his hole while he tugs Steve close enough that he can lick at his neck. Sink his teeth into the taut muscles there, biting a _little_ harder than he knows Steve likes.

He only releases enough to say, “You dress up like this for him? Get all fuckin’ _pretty,_ just so he’d fuck you?”

“Uh huh,” Steve says, breathless, tightening up around him, throat working and working. “Got all dressed up and _begged_ him to fuck my pussy. To cum inside me. To _knock me up_.”

Billy _snarls_ out a sound. There's a knot in his chest, all coiled up, burning white hot.

He lets go of Steve's hair so he can take him by the hips. Snaps in fast and hard, dragging Steve back onto him, their skin slapping as he fucks on with a relentless, incessant pace. Brutal and unforgiving and deep enough that Steve grunts and cries out each time he fills him up.

Steve's tight, like a vice, all hot and wet and perfect. Billy knows it must hurt a little, the way he's fucking him like this, with the sounds Steve's making, with the way Steve grabs uselessly at the countertop. He wants to hear Steve _cry_. Wants to break him to pieces.

Spreading Steve open, he watches as his cock disappears, all shiny and wet, inside of him. Watches how Steve's body clings when he withdraws.

“Such a fuckin’ _slut_ ,” he hisses, driving in and smacking his hand down where Steve's right cheek is already pink, hard enough to leave fingerprints.

Steve cries out, sharp, and gets _tighter._ He pushes at the counter, biting back a sound as Billy spanks him again, harder, and tries to reach down for his cock where it's hard again between his legs.

Billy doesn't let him.

He drives in at an angle that makes Steve seize up and spasm all over. Makes him hiccup out a sob. Makes him slap at the countertop again, uselessly.  Billy stays there, nice and deep, and _grinds in_ until Steve's twitching and whimpering as Billy fumbles for his wrists.

Wrenching Steve's hands behind his back, he pushes until Steve's cheek is flat against the countertop, breath coming in short huffs. He pulls his belt free from his pants and winds it tight enough to bruise over Steve's wrists and forearms, so that he's bent, prostrate, and totally helpless to him. Then, he takes him by the hips again and picks up the pace.

“You wanna cum?” Billy asks, reveling in the high “ _ah, ahh, Billy, please”_ he gets out of Steve's mouth, in the way his eyes have started to tear up, in the smear of red at his mouth as he fucks forward into Steve. “You're gonna cum just like this. Just from my cock in your pussy, baby.”

“ _Billy—”_ Steve gasps and keens as Billy slaps a hand over his ass again. “ _Daddy, please_ —”

“C'mon, be a good girl,” Billy says, squeezing the red of his cheek, firm enough to sting. “Cum on daddy's cock. Show me what a slut you are.”

He presses at Steve's rim with his thumb. Spits on his hole as he slides in deep. Watches as Steve bucks and strains and as his eyes roll back.

“ _Stop—ahh, daddy,_ I can't,” he gasps, and Billy presses his thumb in a little _more_ , until Steve's thrashing. “I can't, _I can't_ , it's too _much_ , daddy—”

But Billy bucks in, angled just right, once, and then twice. It makes Steve's voice pitch higher. Makes him jerk and then sob as he spills out, cumming on Billy's cock, a splatter of white hitting the side of the counter and dripping down Steve's thighs.

“Like a fuckin’ bitch in heat, moaning for some cock like this,” Billy sneers, and he doesn't stop, not for a second, just fucks Steve through it until there's tears rolling down his face, tracking his makeup.  “You like getting filled up that much? Was it just _one_ guy fucking you, baby? Or did you let someone fill up that mouth, too?”

Steve _whines_ , loud and long, as Billy tugs him back and bounces him on his dick. His eyes roll back, his mouth opens wide to suck in breath after breath, and he jerks at his restraints as one of his knees gives out.

“Or—” Billy grunts, jerking him back hard as he drives in. “Or did you let them both fill this pussy? You're so _loose_ , I wouldn't doubt it."

 _“Stop,”_ Steve gasps, ragged and wet. “Daddy, _please,_ stop— slow— slow _down_ , I can't— I _can't_ —”

“Were they wearing rubbers? When they fucked your pussy, were they wearing rubbers?”

Steve’s body goes taut as he whimpers out against it. “No — _no,_ daddy — I —”

“You let them both cum inside, baby? Let them _both_ pump you full?” Billy’s asking, and his whole body’s on fire, he can feel his impending orgasm building. He reaches around and shoves fingers into Steve’s mouth, and Steve’s instantly _sucking,_ as best as he can despite being a fucking wreck. “Couldn’t wait for me — such a dirty little _slut.”_

Steve moans around Billy’s fingers, tongue salving up the underside as Billy pushes in deeper, luxuriating in the wet suction.

Billy knows he’s close. Point of no return kind of shit.

“Think you can take another load, princess?” Billy pants out, and Steve’s busy around Billy’s fingers, but he mewls out a response as a few tears fall free. “You wanna be good, don’t you? Know you _can,_ baby girl, so fucking good for me.”

He takes his fingers out, relents a little because he wants to _hear_ Steve. Pushes the pads of his fingertips against Steve’s wet lips, all slick and plump and parted. Feels how _pretty_ he is.

“I’m so full,” Steve says, gone desperate. “It’s too _much,_ I can’t take any more.”

Billy’s still playing at Steve’s mouth, occasionally hooking in and feeling the wetness. “I’m gonna cum,” he’s babbling. “Gonna pump you so _full,_ baby. Know you can take it all.”

And he’s thrusting all the way in, completely sheathing himself inside Steve as the feeling pulses over him. Bucking in at a disjointed rhythm, and groaning his way through it, guttural and fucked-out.

He’s fucking his hips in for a while as he comes down. Just pushing inside that hot tightness.

While he’s still dizzy with the afterglow, he pulls out, hisses at his heightened sensitivity, and gets to his knees again.

Steve’s voice pitches up again, curious and nervous, like, “What are you—?”

And then he dissolves into whining as Billy spreads him wide. Kisses up his thighs until he reaches the red rim of Steve’s hole.

Steve gasps as Billy licks over him. As he uses him thumbs to keep him open. As Billy's cum leaks out of him.  

“ _Daddy_ ,” he says, squirming, weight shifting on his heels. “ _What_ —?”

“Your pussy's so full you're _leaking_ ,” Billy tells him. “How much cum is in you, huh? Wonder if you could take _more_.”

But Billy's already leaning in again. Biting at Steve's tender cheek and then using his tongue to make Steve moan and writhe and squeal.

He keeps going. Fucks in, licks him out, relentless and unapologetic. Keeps going until Steve's twitching around him. Until his thighs are trembling. Spit and cum and lube sliding down between them.

Keeps going until Steve's _crying_ from the oversensitivity. Fully sobbing and bucking, begging “ _daddy, please, s'too much, please, daddy”_ breathlessly between hitching little breaths.

While he’s still licking his own cum out of Steve, he smacks his ass cheek, creating a sharp _crack_ that has Steve backing up into him, trying to take him even _deeper._

“I’m gonna —” Steve stammers. “I’m gonna. Daddy, I’m gonna cum _again.”_

Billy feels proud and pleased with himself at that. Decides to _reward_ Steve for it. Snakes his hand between Steve’s dripping thighs, reaches around to relieve his hard cock. It pulses up in his hand at the contact, and he begins stroking him off.

Steve’s a _mess._ Doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s overwhelmed, Billy knows, just pushing back onto Billy’s face and whining out, sounding so fucking wrecked, voice _shot._

Billy leans back and _spits_ on Steve again to get him wet, resumes tongue-fucking him in time with his fist, and that’s all Steve can _take._ He’s choking on a sob as he cums for Billy, desperate and whimpering, writhing around as his _third_ orgasm takes over. His cock’s leaking all over the floor, splattering on the toes of his shiny heels.

Billy pats his tender cheek as he pulls back, spreads him and watches him twitch, all shiny and wet, when he squeezes at Steve's softening cock. Steve's still whimpering, sniffling, must still be crying.

Billy kind of _loves_ it.

Pushing to his feet, Billy uses the hand covered in Steve's own cum to slide two fingers into his used hole. Pumps them idly, just to keep Steve spasming and shaking as he smooths a hand over Steve's side.

“So pretty, baby.” Billy tells him, leaning over his back, kissing his wet cheek and then the corner of his mouth as he buries his fingers in. “You took it so well, honey.”

“You're a _dick_ ,” Steve says, a few more tears falling. “I was _worried_.”

“I know,” Billy says, chest aching a little, and he kisses his temple. “I'm sorry.”

Steve huffs, whining as Billy keeps slowly pumping his fingers in and out of him. “You'd stop coming home _bruised_ if you were _sorry_.”

Billy eases Steve up a bit. Catches his lips in a kiss — the first time they’ve really _kissed,_ today, he realizes, and Steve’s weak to it, melting against him.

“I’m _very_ sorry, baby,“ Billy tells him, and he wiggles his fingers around inside Steve, then pulls out, and Steve gasps, quiet. “I am. I love you.”

“You taste like _blood,”_ Steve hisses.

Billy’s unwinding the belt, next. Carefully setting Steve free from it. Rubbing over the pink idents left behind.

Once Steve’s capable again, he straightens up. Turns around to face Billy.

But he doesn’t look all dazed like Billy thought. He’s surprisingly sober — serious. He wipes tears from his cheeks, smearing makeup, streaky, down his pale skin, under his eyes.

“It isn’t about the money, anymore,” Steve’s saying. “We don’t need it. It was cool for a while, but. You don’t have to keep going. You can _stop.”_

Billy crowds Steve in, back against the counter. He strokes down the sides of Steve’s dress, straightens it out again. “Baby, I know, but you know how _good_ it makes me feel, how good I _look_ because of it. I know you _love_ how good I look—“

And then Billy’s _gasping,_ shocked, because Steve snaps and he’s got his hand around Billy’s throat. Digging his thumb and index finger into Billy’s rapid pulse. It doesn’t _hurt,_ it’s just enough pressure to surprise Billy. Turn him pliant.

“Promise me,” he says. “Promise you'll _stop_.”

Billy's throat works against Steve's palm. He runs his hands over Steve's hips, then around. Wraps him up in his arms, squeezing at Steve's ass through the silk, coaxing him closer, flush.

Steve doesn't relent. His lips are pursed up again, a line between his brows, his big pretty eyes dark with worry and darting over Billy's face.

Billy— Billy _nods_. “Okay. Okay, baby. I promise.”

Steve stares at him for a long second. His eyes linger on Billy's brow, on the split there, on the bruise at his cheek, on the blood on his lower lip.

“I don't want you _hurt_ ,” Steve says. “I hate it when you get hurt.”

“I know, honey,” Billy says, and hisses when Steve shifts his touch from his throat to his jaw, thumb pressing at his split lip. “I'll find something safer. No more cage matches. I promise.”

Steve lets out a shuddering breath. “Okay,” he says, then leans in and kisses at Billy's split lip.

Billy groans. There's a dull pain there, but it feels _good_.

Steve kisses his bruised cheek. Frames his face and tilts it down and kisses his brow.

“I love you,” he says, quiet, thumbs dragging back and forth over his cheeks. “I _want_ you.”

Billy feels the breath punch out of him.  “ _Baby_.”

“I always want you. Only you,” Steve tells him, catching one of his wrists and bringing it between them, kissing his bruised knuckles. Billy’s probably a little fucked for liking the way that _looks_ so much. “Even if you _are_ a dick.”

Billy sort of knows that.

So he lets himself be lead into their bedroom. Lets Steve push him into a sitting position at the foot of their bed. Waits there when Steve flips on their bathroom light, returns with a warm, soapy cloth.

Steve climbs into his lap. Squints at him in the warm glow from the bathroom. Dabs at the cut on his lip and Billy grunts at the sting, but allows Steve to do it, anyway, until Steve sets the cloth back down on the bed.

Then they’re kissing. It just sort of happens again, like they can’t keep apart from each other for long. Steve peels his denim jacket off his shoulders, discards it on the carpet.

But Steve slides his fingers under the hem of Billy’s black t-shirt, drags it up his chest slowly, and sucks in a little breath when he sees the skin dappled with yellowy bruises.

They’re not all from _tonight._ They just look worse, today, now that they’ve _accumulated._

He doesn’t say that, though, because it wouldn’t really make a difference to Steve, anyway.

He strips Billy the rest of the way out of the shirt, and Billy lifts his arms up to accommodate it.

Steve runs his hands over his skin.

“Billy,” he says, and hearing his first name like that sounds like he’s in _trouble_ again.

Billy’s wrapping arms around Steve’s waist, pulling him closer. He grabs his ass through the dress and gives it a squeeze.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Billy asserts. And then, sort of joking, he’s like, “You should see the _other_ guy.”

Steve isn’t laughing, though.

“I don’t want you to win,” Steve says, stroking through Billy’s hair. “I want you _home._ Want you safe. It’s okay to be _boring._ Alright?”

Billy nods. Leans up and kisses Steve again.

Steve kisses him long and slow. Holds his jaw and feeds him kiss after kiss before pulling back.

“Anything hurt?”

“No, baby,” Billy says, rubbing up and down his sides. “Just a little tender.”

“Okay,” Steve nods, dropping his hands and working at his shoulders.

Billy tugs him closer in his lap. Groans as Steve works his thumbs into the tight lines of his neck. Steve kneads and works at the tension, until it bleeds right out of him, until he's tugging at Steve's hips so that he's rocking in Billy's lap for him.

Steve peppers his face with kisses. Focuses on the bruises, and it stings a little, but it feels _so good_.

Billy tugs him down a little more. Groans and buries his face against Steve's throat to bite and lick. Fills back out in his jeans as Steve moves with him and works out a knot in his shoulder.

Steve gasps. “You hard again, baby?”

Billy grunts and rocks up.

“Wanna fill me up?” Steve asks, grinding down with little swivels of his hips, and Billy's fingers bunch up in the silk of his skirt as Steve tangles his fingers in his hair and holds him to his pulse. “Still all wet for you. _Dripping_ for you. Want you, Billy. Want you so bad.”

Billy's hands drag up Steve's back. He works at the zipper of the dress, tugs it down, and kisses down his chest as it slips low enough to reveal Steve's nipples. Gets one in his mouth, sucks and licks at it until Steve's gasping.

Steve reaches back and catches one of Billy's wrists. Tugs it down and guides his hand. Up under his skirt. Over his ass— still warm from Billy's spanking earlier— and between his cheeks, to feel just how _wet_ he is.

“C'mon,” Steve breathes, voice hot and wet in his ear. “Want it. Want your cock in my pussy, daddy. Wanna be full of your cum.”

Billy _groans._ Can’t hold it back any longer. While Steve’s focused on rolling his hips, he picks Steve up, makes his breath catch as he lays him out onto his back.

He looks so pretty. His hair’s all splayed out on the white sheets. Makeup a little caked around his eyes, beginning to fade. Mouth blurry-red from too many kisses. And his dress is bunched around his waist.

Billy wants it _off._

He’s huddling over Steve, sucking hickeys into his neck while Steve keens beneath him, arches his back so Billy can slide the dress the rest of the way over his ass. Billy only moves so Steve can kick the thing off of one leg. Billy’s pants are next to go, and then he’s on top of Steve again, grinding down into him as they kiss.

“Look so fuckin’ perfect right now,” Billy whispers into Steve’s neck, the skin that’s shining damp from Billy’s tongue. “You do all this for me?”

Steve’s nodding, desperate under Billy’s touch.

“All for you,” he says, this time. “Waited all night to _show_ you.”

Billy’s slicking himself up between them. He spits on his fingers and gets Steve ready again, too.

He nudges the fat head of his cock inside, slips past the initial resistance, and then he glides in, easy. They’re chest to chest, sticking with sweat as Billy gets even _closer_ , pushes their mouths together. Not kissing, just touching, just _breathing_ into the other’s mouth.

Billy finds Steve’s hand that’s splayed our beside him. He tangles their fingers together, does the same on the other side, and holds both of Steve’s hands above his head against the pillows while he thrusts in.

“I love you,” Billy’s muttering against Steve’s mouth. He’s having trouble keeping his composure when it’s overwhelming how tight and wet Steve is around his thickness. _“God,_ I love you so much. I’m sorry I’m so fucking _reckless—_ I just. Fuck. _Fuck,_ you feel so — _amazing.”_

Steve nods, whining on each exhale, like he's helpless to do anything but agree. He arches as Billy rocks in, mouth falling open on a shaky breath, legs hitching higher at his waist and thighs flexing like he's trying to get him _deeper_.

His eyes are wide and dark, just staring up at him, clutching at his hands as they move together. All heat and sweat and slick. Bodies meeting perfectly in the middle.

“Love you,” Steve says, voice a hush, like he can't quite catch his breath with Billy taking him like this, like it knocks the wind right out of him. “ _Love you,_ Billy. The way you— the way you _feel_ , in me, _god_. Don't stop. Don't ever stop.”

Billy doesn't intend to. He always takes a while, to cum again after that first time. Knows he can keep Steve like this, can stay moving like this inside of him, for a _while_.

And _god_ , Steve's gorgeous like this. Taking him so well, rocking up to meet him and tossing his head back to moan. Baring his throat as his cock bobs between them, dripping precum onto his belly.

The way he strains and flexes to work in tandem with the rhythm of Billy's hips. The way his eyes roll back when Billy grinds deep into him.

“So pretty,” Billy pants against his jaw, dragging the edge of his teeth there.  “So _perfect_ , baby.”

Billy knows Steve's gotta be sore, too. Gotta be tender from the way he'd fucked him over the counter.

But still, he squeezes at Billy with his thighs, bucking up and groaning as Billy ruts a little. Never quite giving him enough to cum.

Still, he begs, “Billy, baby, _please_ . Feels so good, so _full_ — love you. Don't stop, _don't stop_.”

Billy’s gripping tighter to Steve’s fingers. Wants to be as _close,_ as connected, as possible.

“Doing so fucking well for me, princess,” Billy’s mumbling into his jaw. “You’re taking so _much._ But I know you can keep going.”

Steve’s mewling under him, moving to meet Billy’s hips.

“I’m — I’m getting close, baby,” he blurts. “I wanna cum.”

Billy doesn’t slow his pace. Just digs his teeth into Steve’s neck, a little, like a warning. Then he’s whispering like, “Not yet, baby. Gotta. Gotta get there _together,_ yeah? Gotta cum together.”

Steve’s eyes squeeze shut and he picks up whining again.

“Daddy,” he protests, but it’s weak. “I wanna. Wanna cum _so_ bad for you, I wanna _touch—“_

He tries to twist his right hand out of Billy’s grip, but he’s pinned down easily. Billy kisses him, wet and sloppy.

“Not yet,” Billy repeats. “Wanna get there when you do, baby. Wanna watch you while I fill you up.”

Steve’s clenching up around him, crying out a bit. Overwhelmed as his cock kicks up between them.

“I can’t,” he says. “Baby. Please.”

“You can. You can, sweetheart.” Billy tells him, watching his breath catch, feeling a heel dig in to the back of his thigh. “Stay with me. Stay with me, huh? You're doing so good.”

Steve jerks, thrashing a little beneath him. His face twists up in a beautiful, keen agony.

“ _Billy,”_ he whines, cock dribbling a mess of precum that pools in his navel.

“Just a bit more, baby,” Billy tells him, breath heavy, sweat rolling down his temple as he catches Steve in a kiss that's messy and half panted. “ _God_ , you feel so good. So tight and wet for me. You gonna cum with me? You gonna tell me when you're cumming?”

Steve bites into his lip, nodding, eyes glassy. Bliss written across his features as his fingers flex in Billy's. As he holds his breath to stave off the edge.

Billy picks up the pace a bit. Changes the angle with a tilt of his hips so that Steve's eyes roll back again and he goes impossibly tight.

Gets Billy right on the edge with him.

“Gonna— gonna fill you up while you cum, baby.” Billy promises, mouth hanging open between words. “Pump you so— _so full_.”

“ _Please_ ,” Steve whispers, straining against him, _trembling_ . “Make me take it. Break me— Want you to fill me up ‘til I can't _take it_ —”

Billy groans, long and low. His rhythm stutters, and he plants sloppy kisses to Steve's neck and jaw and cheek.

“ _Cum in me,_ daddy,” Steve says, voice high, totally wrecked. “Make me cum, _please._ Fill me up and make me _cum.”_

Billy loses tempo completely. His pace picks up and falters, and he feels Steve twitch and spasm, right as he hears him cry out. Right as his own edge peaks and he spills into Steve. Right as Steve's back bows up while he cums across his stomach and chest.

Billy ruts in as he empties himself out into Steve. Lets go of one of Steve's hands so that he can clutch at his hip and keep them chanted up for him, so that he can stay in to the hilt as they ride it out together.

Steve's panting and shaking, going totally limp, as he comes back down.

Billy slumps into Steve, nestles his head into his neck. Still has their fingers interlaced, and he squeezes around Steve’s fingers.

They’re like that for a few minutes while they catch their breath. Steve’s tracing lazy shapes into Billy’s shoulder blades.

Billy begins to lift his hips, pulling out, but Steve fusses. Whines. Slides his hands down to Billy’s ass and digs his nails in, ‘til Billy obeys and cants his hips flush with Steve. He collapses against him again.

“Want you to stay,” Steve mumbles. “Just like this. Inside me.”

“Baby,” Billy says, but Steve clings on. Wraps his legs around him and _keeps_ him there. “I gotta — we gotta get you cleaned up— “

Steve massages fingers through Billy’s hair. Guides their mouths together, kisses him wet and sleepy.

“Feel so _close,”_ he’s whispering against Billy’s mouth. “Want you to stay like this, all night. Wanna sleep with you in me.”

Billy’s laughing. He pushes up with his hands on either side of Steve’s head. Rolls his hips around, slow, and Steve arches into it.

He pulls out, letting Steve adjust to the loss. Kisses him one more time before he edges off the bed. He helps Steve out of the stockings, the garter, whatever’s left.

And when Steve gets up, he looks sort of _dizzy._

“We gotta get you some water, sweetheart,” Billy says.

“Ibuprofen, too,” Steve’s whining. “Already getting a _headache.”_

“I got you, babe.” Billy says, wrapping an arm around him and guiding him toward the bathroom. “Get you in the shower. Clean you up. Then we'll sleep, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, resting against him.

“I love you, baby.”

Steve hums and Billy feels him smile against his collarbone. “I _know_.”

“ _I know_ ,” Billy says, mocking, but grinning too. “I'm in love with an _asshole_.”

Steve laughs, sleepy and delighted, as Billy pulls him into the bathroom.


End file.
